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VENICE PRESERVED.

A Tragedy.

IN FIVE ACTS.

BY

THOMAS OTWA Y.

THOMAS HAILES LACY,

89, STRAND,

(Opposite Southampton Street, Covent Garden Market,)

LONDON.

15484.42.4.8

First performed at the Duke's Theatre, Dorset Gardens,

1680-1.

38 Senators, 24 Guards, 2 Attendants, Priest, Executioners, &c.

Costumes.

DoGE.-See his costume particularly described in Lacy's edition of Othello.

PAULI. Same as Brabantio.

BEDAMAR.-Spanish dress-Black velvet, slashed with satin and hemmed with gold lace, doublet, trunks, cloak, round hat and feathers, slashed ankle shoes, sword and gloves, lace collar.

JAFFIER.-Plain dark short shirt or doublet and short trunks, circular cloak, dark tights, ankle boots, small round cap, small collar, waist belt and dagger, moustache.

PIERRE-Scarlet short shirt and tights, boots, scarf, waist belt, sword and dagger, round cap and red feathers, moustache and

small heard.

RENAULT.-Doublet, cloak and short full trunks, shoes, short gray hair, large moustache and imperial, hat and feathers, waist belt and sword.

ELOT.-Velvet doublet, trunks and cloak, hair short, moustache and short beard, hat and single feather.

CONSPIRATORS.--Variations, in colour, of the above.
CAPTAIN. --- Morion, breastplate, trunks, low boots.

GUARDS.—Plain helmets, breastplates, trunks and shoes.

BELVIDERA.-Dark velvet robe open at the sides, showing under dress of satin, the hair in gold net, large black veil. Second Dress: White muslin and veil.

HARVARD COLLEGE LIBRARY

FROM

* THE BEQUEST OF EVERT JANSEN WENDELL 1918

VENICE PRESERVED.

АСТ І.

SCENE I.-St. Mark's.-(2nd grooves)
Enter PRIULI followed by JAFFIER, L.

PRIULI. (R.) No more! I'll hear no more! begone and leave me !

JAFFIER. (L.) Not hear me ! by my sufferings, but you shall!
My lord-my lord! I'm not that abject wretch

You think me. Patience! where's the distance throws
Me back so far, but I may boldly speak

In right, tho' proud oppression will not hear me?
PRIULI. Have you not wrong'd me?
JAFFIER.

Could my nature e'er
Have brook'd injustice, or the doing wrongs,
I need not now thus low have bent myself
To gain a hearing from a cruel father.-
Wrong'd you?

PRIULI.

Yes! wrong'd me: in the nicest point,
The honour of my house, you've done me wrong.
You may remember (for I now will speak,
And urge its baseness), when you first came home
From travel, with such hopes as made
you look'd on
By all men's eyes, a youth of expectation;
Pleas'd with your growing virtue, I received you:
Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits;
My house, my table-nay, my fortune, too,
My very self was your's; you might have us'd me
To your best service; like an open friend
I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine;
When, in requital of my best endeavours,
You treacherously practis'd to undo me;
Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling,

My only child, and stole her from my
Oh! Belvidera!

JAFFIER.

bosom.

'Tis to me you owe her:
Childless had you been else, and in the grave
Your name extinct; nor more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past,
Since in your brigantine you sail'd to see
The Adriatic wedded by our duke;

And I was with you; your unskilful pilot
Dash'd us upon a rock; when to your boat
You made for safety: enter'd first yourself;
Th' affrighted Belvidera, following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Was by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
When instantly I plung'd into the sea,
And buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeemed her life with half the loss of mine.
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And with the other dash'd the saucy waves,
That throng'd and press'd to rob me of my prize.
I brought her, gave her to your despairing arms;
Indeed, you thank'd me; but a nobler gratitude
Rose in her soul; for from that hour she lov'd me,
Till for her life she paid me with herself.
PRIULI. You stole her from me; like a thief you
At dead of night; that cursed hour you chose
To rifle me of all my heart held dear.
May all your joys in her prove false, like mine!
A sterile fortune, and a barren bed,
Attend you both; continual discord make
Your days and nights bitter, and grievous: still
May the hard hand of a vexatious need

Oppress and grind you, till at last you find
The curse of disobedience all your portion.

stole her,

JAFFIER. Half of your curse you have bestow'd in vain.
Heav'n has already crown'd our faithful loves
With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty:
May he live to prove more gentle than his grandsire,
And happier than his father.

PRIULI.

Rather live

To bait thee for his bread, and din your ears

With hungry cries; whilst his unhappy mother Sits down and weeps in bitterness of want. JAFFIER. You talk as if 'twould please you. PRIULI. "Twould, by heaven! Once she was dear to me—but she is gone, And if I am a man, I will forget her. JAFFIER. Would I were in my grave! PRIULI.

And she, too, with thee:

For, living here, you're but my curs'd remembrancers—
I once was happy!

JAFFIER. You use me thus, because you know my soul
Is fond of Belvidera: you perceive

My life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat me
Were I that thief, the doer of such wrongs
As you upbraid me with, what hinders me

But I might send her back to you with contumely, And court my fortune where she would be kinder. PRIULI. You dare not do't.

JAFFIER.

Indeed, my lord, I dare not.
My heart, that awes me, is too much my master:
Three years are past since first our vows were plighted,
During which time, the world must bear me witness,
I've treated Belvidera like your daughter,
The daughter of a senator of Venice:
Distinction, place, attendance, and observance,
Due to her birth, she always has commanded:
Out of my little fortune I've done this;
Because (though hopeless e'er to win your nature)
The world might see I lov'd her for herself;

Not as the heiress of the great Priuli.

PRIULI. No more.

JAFFIER.

Yes, all, and then adieu for ever! There's not a wretch that lives on common charity, But's happier than me: for I have known The luscious sweets of plenty; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never wak'd but to a joyful morning: Yet now must fall, like a full ear of corn, Whose blossom 'scaped, yet's wither'd in the rip'ning PRIULI. Home, and be humble; study to retrench; Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hall,

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